A Loyalty Sworn
by Sans the comical skeleton
Summary: *a story based off of a campaign i did.
1. Trailer

A Loyalty Sworn "Trailer"

"They say that monsters are only made when someone chooses to be a monster. They say that people decide who they are, that we all control what we do.

Guess they're right in some ways, but not in my case…"

This is a story of a young man named Maxwell Donovan. Live through the internal and external struggles he goes through with Scarlett Rose as they fight for the army of Necropolis. Find the strained relationships of these two with the stranger who calls himself Raiga Kagura. Who can be trusted in this desolate landscape our protagonists call home? And what dark secrets will be found amongst them about their own homeland? Their own lives?

"A Loyalty Sworn Chapter 1" Coming soon…


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Maxwell

I've always preferred to keep to myself. It's how the story always goes with "rogues," right? Except, I'm not a rogue. My sister and friends try constantly to remind me of how I'm just like any other soldier here in Necropolis. I guess they're right.

To an extent.

But really, that's beside the point. As it goes, my friends and sister think I'm quite the engaging type, but they don't know that compared to others, I trust myself around them and keep them close.

…Somewhat…

Where I live, two or three times a week of which someone spends time with others is enough, especially with what I do. As far as it goes, I'm a soldier of the Necropolis Army, or whatever the hell they like to call themselves. I've never thought of myself as one of them. No, I'm my own thing, and it's not the kind of thing I'm going to share with others.

Basically, the best way to… safely describe my job description is that I'm a swordsman. I have my own "special" missions apart from the rest of the rest of the brigades. You could say that they're the distraction while I finish the job. Many think that my SAT (Sword Attribute Test) scores are the reason I'm given such a responsibility.

If only they knew.

There's a reason I refused when I was asked to be the head general or, as I like to call it, the chief. I just can't put myself in a position that would make others pay closer attention to me. If they found out who I really was, I… Neomi, my sister would be in danger.

I clench my jaw as I feel the raw energy of magic run across my arms at the thought of anyone trying to hurt Neomi. Ever since we lost our mother, Neomi has done everything in her power to keep me safe, but she doesn't realize I'M the one protecting HER. She's not weak, but Neomi would never survive the wrath of those who would no doubt try to go after me.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, dragging my hand through the long locks of hair at the front before opening my eyes and looking at the mirror above my small dresser. I look into my own eyes. Butterscotch eyes. Strange, but more reliable of a human eye color than my actual eyes. The contacts don't bother me anymore, not really.

I look away from the mirror, reaching into my cloak and pulling out a small harp as I settle onto my bed. My fingers hover over the strings, about to pluck the first chord when a knock sounds at my door. I sigh, putting my harp away as I get up and answer the door.

Scott, second-in-command as well as my closest, probably only, friend, stands there with his usual goofy grin. "Maxwell, what're you doing holed up in here? It's a beautiful day out; the guys were thinking of grabbing a drink after shooting practice," he says, leaning against the frame of the doorway.

I chuckle at his positive attitude. He knows how much I hate shooting practice and is probably trying to make up for it, even though he isn't the one who put this up in the first place. Which reminds me. I sigh and shake my head, giving him a half smile, saying, "As much as I'd like to, Chief Evan wanted to have a word with me after practice." Chief Evan is the one with that captain status I refused to take. He throws around orders and never gets anything done himself. It's really no wonder he hasn't figured out who I am.

"Aw geez. Well, hey. If you have time after, then you should definitely join us for a round or two," Scott says, winking. I stifle another laugh, which instead comes out in a snort. When Scott says a round or two, he doesn't mean a round or two. He and his friends like to get what I call "blackout drunk," which has resulted in plenty of trouble and destruction of property. He's also well aware that I never go past one bottle, if even that. I've always preferred to keep a clear head, which means alcohol never much appealed to me. The only times I drink, I do it to ease the pain in my head and chest, to calm me down. I'll go to town on alcohol if this happens, because I've misplaced my medicine and am desperate to keep myself under control. Ironic, that the very thing that makes most people violent is the very thing that quells my own. I hate it, the taste, the burning in my throat, the warmth that brings horrible memories.

"Uh, Max? You alright there, buddy?"

I blink and focus my gaze on Scott. "Huh? Oh, uh… yeah, sounds great. I'll try to make it if I can," I reply quickly, refocusing on the subject. Didn't mean to blank out on him.

Scott shakes his head. "What's gotten into you lately, Max?" he asks, scrutinizing me. "I mean, you seem so… DISTANT lately. Even more than usual. Something bothering you? You know me and the guys are here if you need anything, right?"

I wince under his scrutiny and shake my head. "Chief's been pushing me hard recently. I think he's trying to remind me who's in charge and who failed to take that role when he got the chance to."

That makes him chuckle a little before he lets out an exasperated sigh. "A-lright, fine. I'll save you a spot at Chomby. We will stay as late as we have to, so I expect to see you there," he says, trying to give me a stern, superior look, which sends us both laughing. I know all to well that despite his being a higher rank, Scott sees me as a friend, as I see him. When we've calmed ourselves, he grins and waves as he starts walking away, then pauses, turning to me again as he says, "Oh and, before I forget. Happy birthday, Maxwell."

I close the door, shaking my head as I wander back to my bed. Birthdays don't bring much appeal to me, just like alcohol or being chief. It draws too much unwanted attention. Fortunately, Scott, Neomi and my father are the only ones who know when it is, and, well, as far as I know, they haven't told anyone else. I pull out my harp again, plucking the strings to a melody from long ago, closing my eyes as I'm washed with the calmness that playing the harp brings me. I've always thought of the instrument as almost magical. Not quite like the magic I use, but peaceful, healing.

It reminds me vaguely of her. My mother. I can't quite picture the woman who raised me, loved me when my father made a monster of me. All up until she was killed in that horrible "accident." I don't remember it well. The cart veered, the horses whinnied and reared, there were screams. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. No need to relive it. Nothing can be done about it now.

I sigh as I come to the last chords before putting the harp back into my cloak. I can't keep delaying the inevitable. I'll have to face them at some point or another. It's better I'm not late.

I'm one of the last to arrive, but no one pays me too much notice. The soldiers busy themselves at the targets, lined up side by side as they take aim and fire their guns. And I can't help the thought: I hate shooting practice.

I go over to the table that now has only one gun, MY gun, picking it up and sliding the safety off. I head to the end of the line, focusing my stance as I aim at the target. I hear the other soldiers whispering and grimace, not wanting to deal with this today. Knowing that he's standing behind me in all his righteous idiocy. I try to focus on what I'm doing, ready to shoo-

"Hey, Maxwell. You gonna try to show off to General today?" Sergeant Mikel says, prompting me to turn around and smiling good-naturedly, hoping that he might back off.

"No, not really. Honestly, I've never been very good at shooting in the first place," I respond with a nonchalant shrug, like it doesn't really bother me. I'm not even being modest. I'm a pretty average gunslinger. I've always preferred close combat with my scimitar.

He leans toward me, smirking as he says, "Ya know, people won't always stand there where you can cut them down. Guns are WAY more common now, and you'll be filled with bullets before you can even get close to your target." I hear a click, then his gun goes off. I look at the target he shot at, hole right in the middle of it.

I return my gaze to Mikel. "Uh, that's what practice is for….right?" I ask, not meaning any offense.

Anger fills his eyes and he takes a step closer, pointing a finger at my chest. "Look, pretty boy," he snarls. "You may be the best swordsman and Scott's favorite, but I'm the best gunman and Chief Evan's favorite. So, you aughta watch what you say around me."

I sigh, shaking my head. Mikel may be an excellent marksman, that's true, but he's also way too confident about himself. I turn back to my target, deciding to ignore him instead of being polite as I take aim. To be honest, I've always tried to avoid Mikel. Though he's a bit of a pushover, he's dangerously observant. He sees how I isolate myself when I can, as well as the fact that I take medication. It's not that soldiers can't have meds, but it normally means that there's something that can cause a problem with our duties without it.

I shoot at the target, missing the center by a good few inches. I lower the gun and look to the right. Most of the soldiers have hit the center of their targets by now. I look back at my own target and aim again. When I shoot, this time, the mark is closer. The third shot hits the middle of the target. I exhale, letting my gun point to the ground.

"You're off your game today, Sergeant Maxwell. Is there a problem?" I shift my gaze over to Lieutenant Scarlett, the one who normally leads my squad in battle. I guess one could say she's the true second-in-command to Chief Evan. I'm pretty sure that despite everything, a lot of them are just not comfortable with a woman being second-in-command.

Which doesn't matter to me the instant I see the look she's given me. The look she's always given me. Pity. I grit my teeth. I always get one of two looks from people. Disdain, because of my relation to a man whose work so far proves dangerous, and pity, like the one Scarlett gives me, because I don't have a mother. I don't have a mother because the creatures my father creates killed her. Either way, it makes me rather uncomfortable.

"No, I'm fine, Lieutenant. I haven't ever had good aim with a gun. I much prefer a sword," I respond, closing my fist over my heart in a sign of respect.

"At ease, soldier," she says. I relax, letting my hand fall and look at her blue eyes. Lieutenant Scarlett is a great leader, probably the one leader any soldier would want to join the squadron of. She gives a small smile. "However, if what you said was true, I suppose you wouldn't mind a small duel in the courtyard."

I blink in surprise. I've never seen the lieutenant fight using anything other than a gun. The other soldiers have stopped shooting, apparently taking notice of our exchange. The lieutenant turns to the other soldiers. "File into the courtyard! Put your guns away as you do." They all salute, turning to put up their guns and start toward the courtyard.

I feel someone bump into my shoulder and turn in time for Mikel to say, "You're dead meat, Donovan. She's good at this stuff, too. Better, I bet, than you." He shoves my shoulder again, this time to make it look like we are messing around, and I stumble. When I regain my posture, I look up to see the lieutenant watching me.

"You shouldn't let him push you around like that," she murmurs.

I wave my hand good-naturedly. "It's alright, I'm used to it, what with my dad's work and all. But I do appreciate the-"

"I am not concerned. I am annoyed by your weakness," she says, narrowing her eyes.

"Advice?" I finish, staring at her in surprise. I didn't think she was worried about me. Why would she be?

Her face turns red with embarrassment. "Ah, well. Yes, of course. My apologies for interrupting." She turns and starts walking. "We should get to the courtyard. The others are waiting."

When we arrive at the courtyard, all the soldiers are already standing at attention. The lieutenant leads me into the middle of the clearing and turns, a broad smile on her face. "They say you are the best swordsman on your squad," she says.

There's a snort from the line of soldiers. Without turning, the lieutenant says, "But someone must think they're better than you. Sergeant Mikel, step forward."

There's a pause, then Mikel steps out of the line, saluting as he says, "You want me to duel Donovan?"

There's humor in the lieutenant's eyes as she says, "Oh no. If you're better than "the best swordsman," then he will be too easy for you. You can duel me." Mikel's face drains of any color, and Scarlett laughs. Er…. Lieutenant laughs. "I'm kidding. Draw your sword and let's see what you two can do."

Mikel grits his teeth as I draw my sword and say, "Give it everything you've got, okay? I'm not going to count you out based on title." His nostrils flare as he unsheathes his sword. Geez, I've got to work on my commentary.

I study him closely as we circle each other, already spotting several flaws in his stance, as well as his focus. I can already tell his move, as he shifts and then charges me, making it easy to slip out of the way while swinging back so that the handle of my blade connects with the back of his skull. He stumbles, crumpling to the ground, dazed. I give him no chance to stand, slamming my arm down to bar his chest and plant him against the ground as I press my scimitar to his throat.

"Don't move or I may cut you," I say. I mean that as a caution, but I think he takes it as a threat, as his eyes widen and sweat collects on his head.

"Well done, Sergeant Maxwell," Lieutenant Scarlett says, nodding her approval and gesturing for me to stand. I do so, offering my hand toward Mikel. He ignores me and pushes off the ground, cursing as he returns to the line of soldiers, some of which look like their trying to restrain a laugh. "Now then," Lieutenant Scarlett says as she unsheathes her own blades. "Fighting me will not be so easy." I nod in understanding as I take my stance. "I want you to fight as if to kill. Otherwise, you will not beat me."

I pause, Fight as if to kill. My body feels cold all of a sudden. It's been so long since I've heard it, even if I have followed through with it all through my training as well as missions. I can't stop the memory that flashes before me.

_"You have a specific purpose, my son," he said from behind the glass. "You fight to kill, or else you will never fulfill your purpose, our goal."_

_ I stare at the man, feeling a wave of bloodlust. He is one of them, too, even if he is the creator. My hand tightens over my sword, soaked red. One purpose. That is what I was made for._

"Maxwell Donovan!" I jolt and blink a few times before realizing that Lieutenant Scarlett is standing right in front of me, her eyes full of concern. "You just went very pale," she says, furrowing her brow. "Would you rather not have this duel?"

I take a deep breath, shoving the memory to the back of my mind as I reply, "My apologies, Lieutenant. Something you said reminded me of something. I can follow through with the duel."

She stares at me for another long moment before stepping back, seemingly reassured that I am back to normal. "Alright then." she shifts into position as she says, "If you are ready, then en guarde!"

I immediately start analyzing her. Lieutenant Scarlett has good balance and focus. I can't pull the same trick on her as I did Mikel. I stride forward, testing. I notice her shift just slightly, and, if I hadn't been paying close attention, I wouldn't have noticed it. Right-handed, despite how she uses two blades. Throwing her off-balance will require quick, precise moves on my part. Easier said than done.

She shifts again, throwing a low left hook followed by an elbow to the face. A good tactic for quick rivals. I put my hand up as I dodge to the side, catching her elbow. It stings my hand, but I curl my fingers around her elbow and yank her forward, causing her to stumble. Lieutenant Scarlett whirls around as she falls, swinging her sword. I shift just in time to where her blade nicks my cheek, but I choose to slam my foot into her side. Except it doesn't quite connect as she catches my foot and yanks, causing me to lose my footing, my head slamming against the ground. The world spins and it takes all of my focus to concentrate as I try to catch my breath.

Something nudges at the edge of my conscious, but I ignore it, rolling to the side as Lieutenant Scarlett nearly gets onto me, which would have brought her to a swift victory. I continue the roll until I'm on the balls of my feet, remaining crouched as I watch her straighten and move towards me with careful, calculated steps.

I make the mistake of hesitating, and she moves on me, striking like a cobra. I barely dodge and parry, the blade slicing into my cloak, my side. I wince, putting a hand over the wound. She's on the offensive. I need to change that. Quick. She lunges quick and I nearly flatten myself to the ground, using her momentum to push off of my back foot and slam my body into hers. We both tumble along the ground. But she isn't done. She shoves me away and we both get quickly to our feet. My side protests, but I ignore it as I return to my former position, watching the lieutenant…laughs?

"Sergeant Maxwell, why are you holding back? I hope that my being a female doesn't have anything to do with it. Quite rude, if I do say so myself," she says, tilting her head and looking at me in mock disappointment, a smirk planted on her face.

"My apologies, Lieutenant. I suppose you were right when you said I was-" I start, but she's there, her blades making an impact with my stomach. I see her eyes widen as blood surges onto her blades, knowing without a doubt that I have a similar look on my own. I clutch at my stomach, dropping my sword as I hack, something warm trailing down and dripping from my chin. My body feels unusually heavy as the world seems to suddenly tilt forward.

Something stops my fall, and I hear Lieutenant Scarlett urgently telling me something, or maybe she's talking to someone else? I don't know. The other soldiers are rushing over, yelling at each other, at me. Then they blur as the headache kicks in. My hand fumbles with the inside of my cloak, desperate to get my medicine. Have to get it, before this gets worse. But as I feel around, I feel the hole in the side of my cloak and realize with dread that it must've fallen out when Scarlett's sword tore into my cloak.

The headache gets worse. I can see black on the edges of my vision, quickly closing in. I have to fight it.

I can't

Let the dark

Take me…


End file.
